Page 64 of Gorgeous

She saved my life.

After waiting a few minutes without a response, I turn on the TV and find myself watching one of the movies Breck recorded—Kickass. I laugh out loud at a few scenes, and before I realize it, I’ve watched the entire thing. It’s well past midnight and I need sleep. Theo will be up and ready for a run in a few hours. Most of the time, I can fall asleep to the TV, but for some reason, what I crave tonight is the sound of Breck typing on her laptop. The repetition of her nightly blogging lulls me to sleep better than anything I’ve ever tried.

And I fucking need it desperately.

I roll over and check my phone to see if she’s texted back. She hasn’t, and knowing she had to think about meeting me hurts more than it should.

Great job, Cade. Now you’ll have to explain to Hayes and the rest of the guys why she won’t ever come around again.

My shoulders tense up and my body craves a run due to the anxiety coursing through me. I should sleep. Try to keep my body in a normal rhythm. Most nights, I force myself to sleep early and then I can stay awake if I need to in the wee hours of the morning, but at least I will have gotten some rest.

I pull the covers over my legs and punch my pillow a few good times before I lie back and stare at the ceiling. It’s going to be a long night.

I try remembering the way the key strokes sound but it doesn’t do the trick. Counting sheep or bullets doesn’t either. I’m definitely not going to go ask Ans for a sleeping pill, but honestly, I could use one right now.

After an hour of counting the blade rotations on the fan, frustration gets the better of me. I roll over with a groan, and when my phone chimes, I yell into the pillow. I spring out of bed as if my life depended on it, grabbing my phone.

Sure.

Fucking sure. I can deal with sure. I get back in bed with a grin on my face that I’ll never admit to and debate what to text back or if I should text back at all.

I’m going to text her back. It’s not like I’m sleeping.

Are you writing a review right now?

Her response is almost immediate.Yeahhhh …why?

I feel like a giddy teenager.I watchedKickasstonight. I give it four stars.

You low-balled it. I gave it five.

I smile.You see the best in everybody.Fuck.I mean you see the best in everything. The movie had opportunities for improvement.

I’m fucking sweating. Did I really type that shit? Where were you on that one, autocorrect?

Every movie is a five for someone, even if it has areas for improvement. Some reviewers will still view it as perfection.

I swallow, rereading her text repeatedly. Does she mean me or are we still talking aboutKickass?

Some movies aren’t worth your time,I text.

That’s not your decision to make.

And now I know we aren’t talking about the movie.I’ll save you the time and spoil it for you. My script doesn’t end with a happily ever after.

She takes a minute to respond.I’ve always been more of a fan of the alternate endings.

Why must she be so goddamn stubborn? Why can’t she be quiet and complacent and find her a nice guy with some mental stability? Why must she keep feeding my addiction?

Why are you still up?I ask her.

Why are YOU still up?

And this is why my dick is hard. Arguing with her is like foreplay. It’s in my nature to respond to commands and not being able to shut that sass up has me rock fucking hard.

I can’t sleep.I text her.

Take something.

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